


Mistakes and Second Chances

by NellyHarrison



Series: Everyone Loves Felicity Smoak [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Suicide, mentions of jim moriarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 05:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellyHarrison/pseuds/NellyHarrison
Summary: Felicity has been a huge fan of Sherlock Holmes since her days at MIT.  When she senses he's in danger, and knows something that could help him, she decides it's time she meets the private detective.





	1. The Reichenbach Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this pairing. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

“He did it again,” Felicity announced from her computer, her head shaking in slight disbelief as she continued to read the article about Sherlock Holmes’ latest solved case.  She had stumbled upon his website back at MIT and had been a fan ever since. She regularly read his partner, John Watson’s blog to get details about the cases they solved, placing a Google alert for him for her own amusement and curiosity.  Ever since he ended up in the paper for recovering Turner’s “The Falls of the Reichenbach” painting, she’d been telling her team about him. They picked up rather quickly that she was a big fan and didn’t even need to ask when she made declarations like the one she just did.

“What did he do this time?” Diggle asked as he began putting away his weapons and gear.  He and Oliver had just gotten back from patrol and he was going to call it a night. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed to be preparing for a long night training as he traded his leather suit for some workout clothes.

“Captured Interpol’s Most Wanted,” she told him, rolling to the side so the older man could see the headline and article.  A fond, amused smile appeared on her lips when she saw Sherlock wearing the hat that had thrown him into the limelight a while back.  The fake smile he was sporting was evidence enough that he was not fond of the accessory, which made it all the more funny for her. “I think it looks good on him, but he hates it.”

“How could you possibly tell he hates it?” Oliver questioned, his tone clearly annoyed as he began setting himself up at the salmon ladder.  “All you see is a picture. He’s smiling. How do you know he doesn’t like it instead?”

“That’s not a smile, that’s a cringe.  Yes, he’s showing teeth, and his mouth is turned upwards, but look at his eyes,” she directed, pointing at them.  “He looks pained. And his nostrils are flared. I bet that they bought him the hat because they knew he didn’t like it, but he didn’t want to seem rude in front of the press, so he put it on.  I’m even willing to bet John Watson told him to do it. As great as Sherlock is, he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to social courtesies. John helps him with that, kind of like our John helps you when you’re being a prickly grump,” she added, turning to face him with a smirk.  He simply grunted and began the salmon ladder, garnering her attention for a few moments before she turned and faced her screens again. “A lot of people think that-”

“They’re dating.  You already told us,” Diggle interrupted teasingly, reaching down to give her shoulder a squeeze.  “And you’re sure they’re not right? Unless Watson’s his bodyguard, it’s not very common for a guy to spend every waking moment with another guy unless they’re together.”

“I spend every waking moment with you and Oliver, and none of us are dating,” she pointed out.  Diggle’s knowing look had her glancing away, pinching her lips together tightly. While they didn’t openly talk about it, her friend knew that her feelings for Oliver were more than platonic.  Of course, Oliver had no idea, and probably never would, if she had anything to say about it. “Plus, I can read their body language in the photo. There’s definitely a closeness there, far closer than most partners go, but it’s not romantic.  It’s not even really familial either. It’s just… strong. I’d probably have to spend time with them in person to really figure it out.”

“Too bad they’re in London and you’re in Starling City,” Oliver chimed in from the top of the ladder before making his way down.

Felicity shot him a glare over her shoulder before sighing in resignation.  He was right of course. She had a job and a life in Starling, and no reason to travel across the country and the Atlantic Ocean to go to London.  Even if she did travel all the way there and wanted to meet the great Sherlock Holmes, chances were that he wouldn’t agree to see her. Unless she had a case for him to solve, there was nothing she could offer him that he couldn’t do on his own.  At least, that was what she thought.

* * *

 

“Felicity, have you seen this?” Diggle asked as he walked into her office at Queen Consolidated.  She had been working on an independent project, and a line of code had been screwing her up for hours.  She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since she had started, but from the way he was looking at her, clearly enough time had gone by that she had missed something.  He handed his phone to her, an article about a tri-location, simultaneous break-in in London. “Some guy broke into the Tower of London, the Bank of England, and Pentonville Prison.  I made a few calls before coming up here. They’re saying that he used some code.”

“What?  All three using the same code?  But that’s not possible,” she shook her head.  She knew code, and as useful as it could be, there wasn’t one blanket code that could do all three of those things, and certainly not at once.  She continued reading the article, then handed Diggle his phone back as she switched to her computer to search for information on James Moriarty.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.  Apparently your detective crush is going to be an expert witness.  I’m assuming it has something to do with that Moriarty guy writing his name on the glass before shattering it,” he mused.  Felicity made a sound of acknowledgment, but was too wrapped up in her research to provide anything else. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.  No one can do something like that and get away with it. He was found at the scene of the crime, after all.”

“Right, of course,” she nodded, her eyes locked onto a photograph of Moriarty.  He looked far too calm and happy to be arrested. “Hey, remember when I made you come see  _ Marvel’s The Avengers _ with me?”

“Yup, and I remember you making me binge-watch all of the other Marvel movies to prepare for it,” he stated, giving her an annoyed look before shaking his head when she didn’t even glance up at him.  “Why?”

“Do you remember that scene when Loki was caught and brought to the helicarrier, and he looked really happy about it?” she asked.

“Yeah…  It was because he had wanted to be captured.  It was part of his plan,” he recalled. “You think James Moriarty wanted to be captured too?”

“I think it’s a possibility,” she replied, biting the inside of her cheek.

Months later, when the trial began, Felicity kept the news feed on her computer while she worked, regularly checking in.  She actually stopped working when Sherlock Holmes and John Watson arrived at the courthouse, nervousness filling her in a way she was unfamiliar.  She wanted to believe Diggle was right, and that Moriarty would be locked up, but if there was one thing she had learned working with Oliver, it was that things weren’t always that simple.  Because she knew this, she wasn’t all that surprised when Moriarty was found not guilty, even without his defense calling any witnesses.

“He had to have gotten to the jury,” Diggle stated as they sat in Big Belly, discussing the case.  After the article had come out, he had gotten rather invested in the case, even though it was thousands of miles away.  “There is no way, with all of that evidence, that he could be let free without some sort of manipulation.”

“The fact still remains that he’s free, Digg…  A very dangerous, very powerful man who openly targeted Sherlock Holmes is now free,” she expressed, her hands wringing under the table as she shook her head at the thought.  “I need to do something. I can’t just sit back and watch the man I’ve admired for years be taken out because of this guy.”

“How do you know he’s going to kill Sherlock?” he asked, brows furrowing.  “Maybe he’ll just disappear off the map and do his crimes behind the scenes now.”

“He’s a free man.  When he was committing his greatest crime, he took the time to call out Sherlock.  If he doesn’t kill him himself, then someone else will for him. Either way, he’s in danger and I can’t…  I can’t do nothing. You guys have taught me that when there’s something wrong in the world, it’s my responsibility to do something,” she stated, her lips pinched together in a determined expression.

“No offense, Felicity, but what are you supposed to do from all the way over here?” he questioned, raising a brow.

“I could email him?  Or call him? I have half a mind to hack into his website and leave him a personal note so that he can’t ignore it,” she mused, but even as she said it, she knew that it wasn’t big enough.  Sherlock Holmes was a man who thrived off drama, so a dramatic gesture was the only thing he would probably respond to. “I need to go there.”

“Go?  To London?  You can’t be serious,” he muttered, looking at her like she’d lost her mind a bit.

“I could try all of those other things, and he could ignore it, and by the time I had done it all and then flown out there, it could be too late.  Or I could skip the middle part and go right to what I know has a higher chance of working,” she explained. “I haven’t taken a sick or vacation day since I started working at QU.  If I haven’t managed to meet him within a week, I’ll come home, okay? I know that you and Oliver are all about saving the masses instead of individuals, but this is more than just one person.  Sherlock Holmes has been doing so much good, and if he’s taken out now, it could mean countless others never getting the justice they deserve,” she pointed out. She offered a small smile before adding, “And if I don’t get to meet him, or he doesn’t need my help, then at least I got to finally see London.”

“You’re really going to do this?  What about Oliver? What about, you know, what we do at night?” he reminded, frowning slightly.  “I know we can probably handle things on our own, but I’m worried you’re just setting yourself up for disaster.  Besides, if this Moriarty is as dangerous as everyone thinks he is, getting involved with Sherlock could put you in the line of fire.  I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be careful.  I’m not a target. Not right now, and if I’m careful, not ever.  I’ll make sure that I keep in touch, and if anything goes south, you’ll be the first person I call, okay?  I promise,” she assured him, reaching over and covering his clasped hands with hers. “I’ll be fine.”

* * *

 

It turned out that getting a flight to London was not as easy as she would have liked.  Because of her bank account and work policy, she had to wait about a month and a half before she could fly out.  In that time, she did the things she had contemplated when she had been talking to Digg. The six emails she sent had been ignored.  The dozen or so phone calls had been rejected, and her voicemails did not warrant a call back. A few days prior to leaving for London, she placed the message on his website.  She expected it to be ignored as well, but as she was getting out of her cab at the airport, her phone began ringing.

“Felicity Smoak,” she answered, trying her best not to drop the handle of her suitcase as her carry-on slipped from her shoulder to the crook of her elbow.

“You are quite a persistent individual, Miss Smoak,” the man on the other line replied in lieu of introducing himself.  “Very few continue trying to contact me after I’ve ignored emails and phone calls.”

Her eyes widened when she realized who she was talking to, the shock causing her to drop the handle and her bag to slide off her arm completely and onto the ground.  She scrambled to pick it all up and not drop her phone in the process before finally replying, “Well I had good reason to keep trying.”

“So you claim.  You are aware who I am, correct?” Sherlock asked, turning the page of his book as he continued reading.

“Of course.  I’ve actually been a fan of yours for several years now.  I’ve been following your career since I was in college. MIT, to be exact, not that I’m bragging, although out of the things that I would brag about, that would probably be the most impressive to you.  Not that I’m trying to impress you. I mean, I’m sure you have plenty of other incredibly smart people trying to get your attention on a daily basis for one reason or another, some less innocent than others.  And you’re probably wondering what my motives are-”

“You think you can help me with Moriarty,” he interrupted.

“I… Yes.  How did you-?” she started, but was interrupted once more.

“You told me you were from MIT, so clearly you have some sort of degree involving technology.  It is also something you are very proud of, as you believe it to be something worth bragging about, so you are passionate about whatever it is you specialized in.  From the way you were able to break into my website and leave a message specifically for me, I would say that would be information technology. You also told me you were a fan, so you must have been keeping up with the news about Moriarty’s case and have either figured out or garnered further information about how he broke into those high-security locations.  Because of your background and your admiration for me, not to mention your persistence and apparent urgency, it was obvious why you have been trying to contact me,” he explained. “Normally I would not accept help from any other than my closest confidants, but since this is more your area of expertise, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give you a chance to explain.  Not to mention, I find myself curious to meet the woman who went as far as to hack into my website just to get my attention. That was very clever.”

“Thank you,” she replied, stunned at the praise as she walked through the airport.  “I wish you had contacted me sooner though. It would have saved me some money.”

“I would suggest you return your ticket, but chances are, they won’t give you a full refund.  It makes more sense for you to come here anyways,” he stated.

“There’s no way you could have figured out what I was doing.  I gave nothing away,” she insisted, getting into line to check her bag.

“You dropped your suitcase and carry-on when you realized who I was, and there was an announcement about a flight while we’ve been talking.  Not to mention, the next obvious step after the ones you’ve already taken would be to try to contact me in person. I will have a car waiting at the airport when you land Miss Smoak,” he told her.

“Wait, how will you know when I’ll be landing?” she asked, brows furrowing.

“Do you really have to ask?” he retorted, the smirk clear even over the phone.  She could only laugh at that, her head shaking as she accepted that there was nothing that she could hide from him.  “I look forward to meeting you in person. Have a safe flight.” With that, he hung up, leaving Felicity with several hours of travel to accept that what had just happened was real and not a dream this time.

* * *

 

The flight had been long, with a layover in New York City that she was too excited to rest during.  She did manage to catch a few hours of sleep on her flight over the Atlantic, but by the time she landed in Heathrow, she was exhausted and probably looked a little worse for wear.  She yawned for probably the ten thousandth time as she grabbed her bag off of the belt and began wheeling it towards the exit. Among the sea of placards, held by drivers waiting for their passengers, was her name.  With a quirked brow, she made her way towards it, only to stop, once again stunned, by who was waiting for her. “You’re John Watson.”

“I assume you’re Felicity Smoak?” he asked, managing a small smile, even though his tone was a bit tired.

“Yes, have you been waiting long?” she wondered, figuring that might have been the source of his tone.

“Not at all.  Follow me, please,” he requested, tucking the sign under his arm as he began walking towards the exit.

“You hate that he sent you to come fetch me, don’t you?” she asked, following after him with more pep in her step.  She was talking to  _ the _ John Watson, after all.  “He does know that cabs and hired drivers exist, right?”

“I have a cab waiting outside.  He insisted it would be improper to not greet ‘his biggest fan’ in person,” John replied, holding the door open for her before directing her towards a waiting taxi.

“Then why didn’t he come here himself?” she questioned, a smile starting to grow on her lips.  She had a feeling she knew the answer, but it was too good not to ask.

“Oh, don’t you know?  He’s far too busy for all that.  Me, on the other hand. I have nothing but time that can be spent doing his bidding,” he answered, shaking his head as he held the car door open for her.  “After you.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, sliding into the cab while the driver stowed her bags in the trunk.  “I’m sorry you had to come all this way. If I had known, I would have just called my own cab.”

“It’s quite alright.  I will admit, I was intrigued enough to meet you that it wasn’t that much of a trouble.  I just hate it when he does things like this,” he admitted. “You’ll find that while he understands how people should behave, that does not mean he will behave accordingly.”

“That’s what makes him special, isn’t it?” she pointed out.

“No, that’s what makes him a royal pain in my arse,” he corrected, causing her to laugh, which in turn pulled a smile from John’s previously grumpy face.  “Because I know him so well, I will apologize ahead of time if he says or does anything that offends you. I assure you, he doesn’t usually mean anything by it.  It’s just the way he is.”

“Well then I guess I should apologize now if I say or do anything that embarrasses either of you.  My mouth tends to have a mind of its own,” she admitted, smiling awkwardly. “If Sherlock hadn’t interrupted me on the phone, I probably would have said something I would have regretted and lost my chance to meet him.”

“He did mention you rambled a bit.  Coming from him, I was quite dubious, if I’m being honest.  So far, you seem to have control over that wild mouth of yours,” he teased, smiling over at her.  “There’s very little that will leave Sherlock flustered, so I am sure you will do just fine. I just warn you not to have your hopes too high.  They say never meet your heroes, and if Sherlock is yours, you might be in for a shock.”

“He’s not my hero, exactly.  I just think that what he does, and how he does it, is fascinating.  He can gather so much information, just by sight or smell. Since I discovered his website, I’ve been working hard to improve my own skills of deduction.  Your blog has been an interesting read as well, by the way. Truly magnificent stuff. You should be proud,” she complimented. “I’m a fan of yours too, but that’s much newer, which is the only reason why I’m not freaking out as much as I probably will when I meet your colleague.”

“‘Colleague’, huh?  You don’t follow the thoughts of the rest of our ‘fanbase’ that we’re together?” he asked, quirking a brow.

Felicity bowed her head before shaking it, glancing back up at him with a sheepish smile.  “Like I said, I’ve been working on my deduction skills. I’ve picked up on more than a few things that proves otherwise.  Not to say that there would be anything wrong if you were, but after growing up in Vegas, I’d like to think my gay-dar is pretty spot on, even if you Brits blur the lines every now and then,” she joked.  “Besides, I saw you in the reflection of the window staring at my ass when I got into the cab,” she added, causing his eyes to widen and his mouth to drop. When he started to apologize, she waved a hand.  “You don’t have to. I’m flattered,” she assured him, laughing softly. “Nice to know after travelling for close to twelve hours that I still look good enough to draw the attention of ‘confirmed bachelor John Watson’.”

“Oh you’re a funny one, you,” he commented, wagging a finger at her before shaking his head.  “Even if it doesn’t end well, seeing you and Sherlock interact will be fine entertainment while you’re here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I have a feeling he’s never met anyone quite like you, and I assure you, that is a compliment,” he told her, shooting a playful wink before turning his attention to his phone.  Felicity smiled at that, then looked out the window to watch the sights of London rush past, her excitement mounting as they got closer and closer to 221B Baker Street.

When they arrived, there was a letter on the doorstep.  John picked it up and opened it, only to find bread crumbs inside.  Felicity found this odd, but instead of saying anything, she followed him up the steps to the apartment.  With each step, her heart beat faster and faster until it was racing far faster than what was probably healthy.  She was about to meet the man she had followed the career of for years, a man that had influenced the way she saw people and things completely.  As they approached the open door, she began ringing her hands, her mouth growing dry from nervous excitement.

“Sherlock, this is...” John trailed off when he noticed Lestrade and Donovan were also in the apartment.  “What’s going on?”

“Kidnapping,” Sherlock answered, pausing when he noticed Felicity.  He looked her over, very analytically, then nodded once and returned his attention to the task at hand.  Felicity remained in the doorway, silently watching as Lestrade explained what had happened. It all happened very fast, and as Sherlock was heading towards the door, Donovan asked who she was.  “This is Felicity Smoak. She’s my new technical liaison. Feel free to leave your bags here, Miss Smoak. You won’t be needing them,” he told her, brushing past her and heading down the stairs.

Felicity opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure what had just happened, before bringing her bags further into the apartment and leaving them.  She gave a small smile to the officers before following him down the stairs, falling into step beside him once she caught up. “‘Technical liaison’?”

“Would you have preferred I call you ‘the woman who travelled from America to try to save my life’?” he asked, glancing over at her.  “Or would ‘my number one fan’ been better?”

“Point taken,” she acquiesced, sliding into the car after him and folding her hands over her lap as John joined her in the back seat.  It was a mostly silent drive, so Felicity pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Digg.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _John Diggle_ **]:** Made it to London safely.  Got picked up by John Watson himself.  Sherlock named me his technical liaison to the local police.  Let the adventure begin.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _Felicity Smoak_ **]:** Adventure?  That doesn’t sound like you being safe.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _John Diggle_ **]:** It all happened so fast, Digg.  I love you for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine.  Trust me.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _Felicity Smoak_ **]:** You know I do trust you.  It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.

“He has a point, you know.”  Felicity looked up suddenly to see Sherlock looking down at her.  “The rest of the world can be very untrustworthy. He has cause for concern.”

“Do you normally read over people’s shoulders when they’re having a private text message conversation?” she retorted, giving him a look.

“Yes,” he answered plainly.  “brother, cousin or friend?”

“Huh?”

“This ‘Digg’ fellow.  Is he your brother, your cousin, or your friend?” he asked.

“Why are those the only options?” she wondered, wanting to see him show off a bit more.

“Fathers are usually in phones as ‘dad’ or something to that effect.  Uncles and grandfathers as well, and they would probably have the same last name as you, which he does not,” he explained.  “You wouldn’t tell your boss or co-worker that you love them, unless you were being a very naughty girl at work. You’re the type of girl that would use a pet name for someone you were dating, and while ‘Digg’ appears to be a nickname, it’s not obnoxious enough for him to be your boyfriend.  That leaves brother, cousin, or close friend. The brother would either be a half- or step-brother due to the last name of course, so that’s one of the less-likely options. I’m going to assume friend, probably someone you talk to on a regular basis and who you are close enough to that he’s aware of your crush on me.”

“I don’t have a crush on you,” she insisted.

“Don’t you?” he challenged, his bright blue eyes unwavering on hers.

“No,” she lied, looking forward as her cheeks grew warm when she remembered they were not alone in the car.  “I’m too smart to develop a crush on someone way out of my league twice in one year,” she insisted, nodding once as she mentally ordered herself to let go of whatever non-platonic feelings she may have for the man beside her.  Perhaps she did have a small crush, but that was mainly due to his achievements. Surely, the more she got to know him as a person, the quicker those feelings would go away. She could feel his eyes linger on her a few moments longer before he turned away, her body only relaxing when he did.

* * *

 

Watching Sherlock work compared to reading about it was a mind-blowing experience.  Between his treatment of Miss MacKenzie, his observation of how the ambassador's son would see things in his room, and his eventual discovery of the footprints, she was blown away.  She couldn’t help but snort at the way he behaved around Anderson, her head shaking when the scientist wrote off Sherlock’s discovery so quickly. Even she knew that footprints told way more than people might expect.  The trip to the lab was interesting, especially when Sherlock insisted that his colleague (friend?) Molly skip her lunch date to help him.

“You know, I could probably help you.  I have some experience in a lab,” she told him.  “That way Molly can make her lunch date.”

“She has access here.  Her presence is vital for access to certain documents and information,” he explained as he settled in at his station.  “Besides, I meant what I said about her love life. It would be best if she just went without one.”

“You sound jealous,” she stated, lifting a challenging eyebrow when he scoffed and looked over at her in disbelief.  “What? You don’t want her to date, possibly because you want to date her yourself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Molly is a friend. Nothing more,” he insisted, then paused and began smirking as he looked over at her.  “I, too, can recognize jealousy. Are you sure you’re not projecting your emotions onto me?”

“What?  You think  _ I’m _ jealous?” she asked, it now her turn to be shocked.

“That is what I am implying, yes,” he nodded.

“I couldn’t possibly be jealous because there’s nothing to be jealous about, right?” she shot back, smirking right back at him.

“Point taken,” he gave in, squinting at her slightly before returning to examining the evidence.

They all got to work, Felicity helping to analyze materials with Molly.  She gave Sherlock a look when he mistakenly called Molly “John”, then shook her head when the shy girl quickly corrected him and continued working.  “Is he always like this?” Felicity asked Molly, nodding towards Sherlock who was intently analyzing the materials that had been found in the shoe print.

“Usually,” Molly nodded, a small smile brushing her lips as she glanced over at Felicity.  “You said you had experience in a lab. What do you do back in America?”

“Well, actually, I work in the IT department of Queen Consolidated, but…” she trailed off, contemplating making something up but eventually deciding that if Sherlock Holmes trusted her, she could too.  “At night, I work with the Starling City vigilante,” she told her. “I help him behind the scenes, whether it’s hacking into different places, being his eyes and ears, or analyzing blood or other materials he brings to me.”

“I take it no one knows you help this vigilante?” Molly asked, visibly impressed by Felicity’s nightly activities.

“Oh no.  If anyone found out, I’d be arrested,” Felicity replied, shaking her head.  “So let’s keep what I said between us, okay?”

“Don’t worry.  Your secret’s safe with me,” Molly assured her, miming zipping her lips before nodding once.

While Felicity walked over and began helping John, she couldn’t help but overhear Molly and Sherlock’s conversation.  Sherlock might not have romantic feelings for Molly, but it was clear to Felicity that Molly was in love with Sherlock.  It broke her heart to hear her belittle herself, a soft sigh escaping her when she realized she knew  _ exactly _ how she was feeling.  Falling for a man who both didn’t notice her in the way she desired and was completely out of her league was not a foreign concept to her after all.  Hearing Molly stumble over her words, a few innuendos thrown in accidentally, had a small smile growing on Felicity’s lips. Yes, she and Molly Hooper were kindred spirits, and she made a mental note to keep in touch with her once she returned to Starling City.

When Molly left, Felicity made her way back to Sherlock.  “You need to stop taking advantage of her. You may not even realize you’re doing it, but she would do whatever you ask, and so you ask everything of her,” she stated, knowing she was coming across more bitter than she intended.

“She can say ‘no’,” Sherlock insisted, his attention still mostly on the microscope before him.

“But she won’t, because it’s you,” she told him, matter-of-fact, causing him to look up at her.

“And how do you know that?” he questioned.  The fact that he was asking either meant he hadn’t picked up on the subtle hints she had already given thus far or he wanted to hear it from her himself.

“Because I’ve been where she is.  Hell, I still  _ am _ where she is, and a part of me wishes that someone would say what I’m telling you to the man I’d do anything for,” she admitted, glancing down.  “I’m not asking you to stop coming to her for help, but making her cancel her lunch date when you have no interest in her romantically is cruel. She deserves to make a life apart from you if you’re not going to give her what she wants.”  She finally looked back up at him, her mouth growing dry from the intense way he was observing her. He looked like he was about to say something when John came over, asking about the envelope in the kidnapped girl’s trunk.

The next few hours were a bit of a whirlwind.  After figuring out what the book, the breadcrumbs, and the kidnapped children meant, Sherlock finally realized what the last compound was.  They quickly made their way to the police department to explain to Lestrade and get assistance in finding where they five compounds connected.  Once he got some resources from his homeless network, he was able to decipher where they kids were being hidden. Felicity looked around with the rest of the officers, rushing over once Donovan called out.  The boy had to be brought to the hospital, but the girl, Claudette, was brought to the police department for brief questioning. She was shocked when Claudette began screaming at the sight of Sherlock, but she quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him out with Lestrade.  Donovan’s comment on their way out had Felicity shooting her a dirty look, but she didn’t say anything, and neither did Sherlock. When the man in question left her and John to take a cab herself, she sighed defeatedly.

“Do you think he’s okay?” she asked John, sliding into the cab once it arrived.

“I’m not sure…” he admitted, which left her incredibly uneasy.

Their drive was silent, both lost in thought, but those thoughts were quickly interrupted when they turned a corner and found Sherlock standing in the middle of the road with a dead man on the sidewalk nearby.  Not for the first time since landing in London, Felicity was completely perplexed by the situation she had found herself in. Sherlock spoke so quickly, expressing the details he was aware of, that she was having a little trouble keeping up.  However, when he mentioned cameras, she jumped into action.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock asked as she sat at his computer and began typing away, even as he continued moving around the room.

“If there’s a camera nearby, I can find it,” she told him.  Just as she had pulled up the feed, he was pulling it from the bookcase, his face and the approached detective in the background clear for her to see.  She tried to figure out who the camera belonged to, but it was connected to Sherlock’s wifi, and anyone could have hacked in or out to get access. Whoever had placed it there knew what they were doing and were good at hiding their footprints.  “I can’t trace back who had been watching it. Anyone with a computer and minimal hacking abilities could have gotten access to it,” she explained, moving out of the seat so Sherlock could see. “If Moriarty did this, he’s better than I thought.”

She stood by silently as Sherlock and John argued, her eyes darting between the two of them like she was at a match at Wimbledon.  A sharp gasped escaped her when Sherlock shouted about Moriarty playing with John’s mind, but she knew that John was loyal. She knew that after everything they had been through together, he wouldn’t believe he wasn’t the real deal.  Of course, Sherlock was right about Lestrade, and within ten minutes, he was back, but with a warrant this time.

“You know this isn’t right.  Why would he agree to solve a crime he committed?” Felicity tried to reason with Donovan as John argued with Lestrade.

“Don’t try to interfere or I shall arrest you, too,” Lestrade warned John, his eyes shifting to her as he sighed.  “The same goes for you, Miss Smoak.”

Felicity sighed as he took Sherlock away, leaving them with Donovan.  She could only shake her head as Donovan completely missed the mark on Sherlock.  She had met her fair share of criminals; she knew Sherlock was one of the good guys.  When the chief began insulting Sherlock, she had to restrain herself alongside John, her eyes darting to meet his as she shook her head.  She tried to stop him when he went to attack the chief, but she wasn’t fast enough, and she felt herself being pulled back by Donovan as an officer arrested John.

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Felicity could only watch as Sherlock’s great mind took the lead.  She wasn’t affected like the rest of the officers by the feedback, but she did jump at the gunshot, her eyes darting to Sherlock as he pointed the gun at John’s head.  “Couple of morons,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head as they escaped. When the chief ordered for Lestrade to go after him, he looked at her expectantly, causing her to snort.  “Don’t look at me. I’ve only known the man a day,” she reminded, crossing her arms over her chest.

* * *

 

“Why am I seeing on the news that Sherlock Holmes is now a fugitive?” Digg asked when Felicity answered the phone.  After Sherlock and John had disappeared, she had gotten her stuff and checked into a hotel. She made sure that Mrs. Hudson had her phone number, but she didn’t hear anything for days.  The silence was starting to drive her stir-crazy, so she had been relieved to see Diggle’s face pop onto her screen.

“Because the local police are morons,” she replied, moving towards the window and looking out.  “They think that just because he solved the case quickly and the little girl screamed when she saw him that he’s behind all of this.”

“Is he?”

“Digg, be serious, please,” she requested, sighing softly.

“I am being serious, Felicity.  The police aren’t always wrong, you know,” he pointed out.

“Yes, well these ones are,” she insisted.

“And what makes you so sure?” he asked.  When she paused, he pressed further, “I know you’re a fan of him, but you don’t really know him.  All of this, it could be a fabrication.”

“I saw him at work.  I actually saw his thought process in person.  For a normal person, it could sound fake, but I watched him, step by step, figure out how it had happened.  He solved the case himself. Why on earth would he do that if he committed the crime?” she shot back. “Sherlock Holmes is not the bad guy here.  He’s the victim.”

“Are you sure your personal feelings aren’t clouding your judgment?” he countered, his tone steady and non-judgmental.

“Don’t.  It’s not like that,” she insisted, shaking her head firmly.

“Felicity, you flew across the Atlantic for him, and that was before you even met him.  Now you’re defending him, knowing what he’s being accused of?” he began. “You forget that I know you.  I know what you’re willing to do for someone you care about.”

“So what if I care about him?  He’s a brilliant man. That doesn’t mean he’s a criminal,” she stated.

“All I’m saying is that maybe you’re too close to this.  You’ve already been wrapped up in one man’s darkness, and you nearly lost your head for it.  Now, I can protect you here in Starling from what we do, but I can’t protect you when you’re all the way in London,” he told her.  “I’m worried about you, Felicity. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be home soon.  Once this is all cleared up, I’ll catch a flight back,” she assured him.  “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

John sighed, accepting her promise knowing fully well that arguing with her anymore would be for naught.  They said their goodbyes, and Felicity was left alone with her thoughts again. Everything that Moriarty was doing, everything he was putting Sherlock through, was like a game to him.  It was one big puzzle that needed to be solved. The trial, the fairy tale envelopes, the arrest, all of it was part of his plan, but why? And what about the assassins? Why had they moved in but not made a move on Sherlock himself?  That’s when it all hit her.

_ The code _ .  Moriarty had hacked into three of the most secure locations in London simultaneously, and the trial had made how he claimed to have done it public.  Of course, she knew better, but the average person - the average  _ criminal _ \- wouldn’t.  Then he used the few minutes before the police arrived to arrest him to call Sherlock out, not just to get him involved in the case but to also say to the world that he was the key. The camera in Sherlock’s apartment showed Moriarty and Sherlock meeting to interested parties, and they all appeared thinking that the now-fugitive had the code they wanted.  It was a brilliant plan, and one Sherlock had unwittingly fallen right into.

She rushed out of her room and down into her street, calling a cab and directing it to Baker Street.  The drive took too long, her legs bouncing from nervousness as the scenery passed by too slow for her liking.  As she pulled up, she saw another taxi speeding away in the opposite direction. She tossed the driver enough money to cover the ride and a tip, then scurried up to the door before knocking loudly.  “Mrs. Hudson?” she called out. “It’s Felicity!”

After a few moments, the door swung open.  “I need to get in touch with John or Sherlock.  There’s something they need to know.”

“What?  Oh, John was just here, dear.  Left in quite a hurry, actually,” Mrs. Hudson told her.

Felicity ran back outside, looking in the direction of the cab that had just left.  “Where could he be going?” she muttered to herself. Where would Sherlock be hiding out?  Who could he trust to protect him while the police searched for him? “Of course! Taxi!” she shouted, sprinting to one nearby and sliding into the seat.  “St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, and quickly!”

Time passed slowly as she made her way to the hospital, then began racing past once she arrived.  She saw John standing in the street, looking up at the roof as he talked to someone on the phone, her eyes immediately darting up to where he was looking once she got out of the cab.  “No…” she breathed, her feet slowly making her way towards John when she saw Sherlock drop the phone. “No, no, no,” she muttered, quickening her pace, but it was too late. The last thing she saw before someone ran into her, knocking her to the ground, was Sherlock falling from the roof.

Her head ached from where it had hit the ground, her feet stumbling as she stood and began walking towards where a crowd was gathered.  She only caught a glimpse of the body as it was being wheeled away, her stomach turning at how still and covered in blood it was. “John,” she spoke softly, her eyes welling up as he turned to face her.  “I-Is he…” The silent shake of his head had her hand covering her lips, her eyes closing as the first few tears rolled down her cheeks. She was too late. She had come to save him, and she had failed. Sherlock Holmes was dead.


	2. The Sign of Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot can happen in two years. People fall in love, start new lives for themselves, and... come back to life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. It was your positive input that had me sitting down and finishing this story. Enjoy!

“So you’re finally going to do it tonight, huh?”

John sighed wistfully over the phone as he looked down at the ring box in his hand.  He flipped it open, looking at the ring nestled inside, then grinned. “Yes, I’m going to do it tonight.  It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“I think you should have done it ages ago,” Felicity replied with a soft laugh of her own.  “I’m really happy for you John. Mary is a wonderful woman, and I know you two will be happy together.”

“I saw Mrs. Hudson today,” he told her, shifting gears quite abruptly.

Felicity paused.  It had been two years since she saw Mrs. Hudson, but she had done her best to check in every month or so.  Because of this, she knew that John hadn’t gone to see her since the funeral. She always pushed him to go see her, which was probably why he was telling her that he had.  “Oh? And how is she?”

“As opinionated as always,” he replied with a huff, eliciting a giggle from Felicity.  “She doesn’t like the mustache either.”

“Because it ages you,” she pointed out.

“So she said,” he grumbled, reaching up to touch the patch of hair.  He had only been trying it out, but Mary seemed to be the only one that liked it.  “Luckily, I’m not one to take what you or Mrs. Hudson say too seriously.”

“A dreadful mistake, if you ask me,” she joked, smiling over the phone.

“You would say that,” he retorted, shaking his head.  “You aren’t always right, you know. Wasn’t it only a year ago that you said Oliver would never be interested in you romantically?  And look at you now, living a peaceful life of ‘suburban bliss’ with him.”

“Alright, fair point.  When it comes to relationships, I clearly know nothing, but I do know what I’m talking about when it comes to your facial hair,” she insisted.  “And for the record, just because I was wrong  _ once _ does not mean I am not usually right.”

“I know, Felicity.  You’re a genius and I should feel honored to consider you a friend,” he teased.

“Yes you should,” she agreed, chuckling with him.  “As much as I would love to keep chatting, I have a video conference with the board.  They’re getting more and more frustrated with me being so far from the city.”

“You  _ are _ the CEO.  You should be closer to the company you’re supposed to be leading,” John pointed out.

“I know, I know,” she nodded.  “But things between Oliver and I are really good right now.  I want to stay like this just a little while longer.”

“Oh who are you kidding, Smoak?  You and I both know that you  _ hate _ being in the suburbs.  You miss being behind a computer screen, being a… a…  What was that phrase you used that one time? Oh right, a bitch with wifi,” he recalled.  “Does Oliver even know about all of the work you did when you were on your worldwide trip?”

“No, and he never will, if I can help it.  I can’t imagine he’d be too happy with me if he found out I had lied about having a wireless connection,” she muttered, frowning slightly.  “We’ll have to go back for my job soon. As much as he’s been enjoying himself here, he knows how important my career is. He won’t jeopardize it twice.”

“Not after the secretary incident, he won’t,” he agreed.

“ _ Executive assistant _ ,” she corrected.  “You know, I regret telling you so much.  You only seem to use it against me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he declared.  “I’ll let you go. I have to get ready for tonight anyways.”

“Alright.  Call me tomorrow to fill me in.  I’ll want every detail,” she requested, smiling at the thought of her friend finally proposing to his wonderful girlfriend.  “And John?”

“Yes, Felicity?”

“Congratulations,” she told him, smiling at the small exhale that followed.

“Thank you.  Talk to you tomorrow,” he assured, then hung up.

Unfortunately, he never called.  She considered calling him herself to see what had happened, but she figured he and Mary must have been busy celebrating their engagement.  Surely he would call her later. Days passed, and no phone call. She tried to keep herself busy, but John had been right. She hated living in the suburbs.  When her friends showed up, pleading with them to return and help them, she was relieved to have a solid excuse to return to Starling City. However, the one big difference between the city and the suburbs is that when something big happens, everyone learns about it immediately.

She had been unpacking their things in their apartment, dancing along to whatever was playing on the radio, when she got the google alert.  Her brows furrowed. She hadn’t gotten a google alert in quite a while. Two years to be exact. Swallowing dryly, she went over to her phone and opened up the link, her heart clenching when she read the title:  _ HAT DETECTIVE ALIVE _ .  As she stood there, staring at her phone completely froze, she began recieving a slew of text messages.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _John Diggle_ **]:** I just heard the news.  Is it true?

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _Oliver Queen_ **]:** Diggle told me.  Are you okay? Do you want me to come home?

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _Molly Hooper_ **]:** Please don’t be mad at me for not telling you…  Sherlock made me promise.

**[** _TEXT_ **;** _John Watson_ **]:** I can explain.

It was this last text that had her dialing John’s phone number, her shock quickly turning to anger at the realization that this was why he hadn’t called her.  When he picked up, she practically shouted, “You  _ knew _ ?”

“What?  No, of course not, I’ve only just found out,” he assured her.

“How long ago?” she asked, clenching her jaw as she felt her blood begin to boil.

“...The night I was going to propose,” he answered regretfully.

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me and tell me sooner?  You waited until the  _ news _ broke the story, John!  You let me wait until the rest of the world found out.  How is that fair?” she demanded.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.  After everything-”

“No, you don’t get to use that as an excuse,” she cut him off, shaking her head firmly.

“Felicity, after Sherlock died, you threw yourself head first into your mission with the vigilante.  You nearly died, no less than four times, because you insisted on being put in the field more. You let yourself be used as bait, for Christ’s sake.  You’re lucky to still be alive,” he reminded, concerned but harsh. “After all of that, I wasn’t sure how you would react if I told you. If I had known he was going to publicly come back to life so soon, I would have told you, I promise.”

She sighed, her head bowing as she recalled how reckless she was the year following Sherlock’s death.  She had been so determined to prove her worth, to prove that she could save people instead of failing them, that she had risked her life to do it.  It had scared John so much, he had threatened to fly out just to act as her personal bodyguard. Luckily, she had talked him down from that and got herself in order, but that year was definitely a dark time for her.  “You still should have told me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he replied.  “Can you forgive me?”

A small scoff followed as she shook her head, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip before she answered, “You’re one of my best friends, John.  Of course I can forgive you.” She took a deep breath, letting go of her anger, which in turn left room for confusion and curiosity to set in. “How did he do it?  How did he trick us?”

“I wouldn’t let him explain.  Truthfully, I don’t want to know,” he admitted.  “It’s been two years. At this point, would knowing change what we went through?”  She knew he was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. “Do you want me to pass a message along to him?  I could demand he call you, if you want.”

“No!” she exclaimed, then pinched her lips together as she mentally cursed herself.  “I-I’m not ready to talk to him. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready, but I know I’m not ready now.  In fact, it might be better if you don’t mention me to him at all.”

“And if he asks about you?” he questioned.

Her breathing stuttered at that, her feet carrying her towards the window as she looked out at the city around her.  “I doubt he even remembers me,” she joked, but it fell flat as she was met with silence. “I only met him for a day, John.  I doubt I’m even a blip on his radar… But if he does happen to ask, just tell him I’ve moved on with my life.”

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why would I lie about something like this?” John asked, sounding tired.  She was sure it had something to do with Sherlock, but she had no desire to learn about their latest antics.  She had turned off the google alert after the one reporting his resurrection, and she had made it very clear to her team that she had no interest in staying up to date with what they were up to.

“You wouldn’t, but why on Earth would Mary want  _ me _ to be her maid of honor?  We’ve only ever spoken on the phone, and even then, I made a complete fool out of myself,” she reminded, feeling her cheeks grow red from the memory.  She had been so nervous talking to John’s new girlfriend at the time that she had gone on a ten minute rant about birth control that ended with a not-so-subtle comment about their biological clocks ticking.

“You did not make a fool out of yourself.  She thought you were adorable, and she only ever has nice things to say about you.  Besides, you were the one that pushed me to give her a chance remember?” he asked. Felicity smiled softly thinking about it.  John had been talking about the lovely woman that worked at the doctor’s office with him for weeks. Eventually, she told him that if he didn’t ask the woman out, she would fly to London and ask her out herself.  “Mary’s still a little disappointed I gave in and didn’t let her experience a date with  _ the _ Felicity Smoak.”

“Oh please, you would have asked her just from the threat alone.  You just needed the motivation,” she insisted, but the smile was still firmly planted on her lips.  “I’ve never been a maid of honor.”

“That’s okay.  Sherlock and Mary seem to have the wedding preparations under control.  You’ll need to give a speech and help out the day of, but other than that, we have it all sorted,” he assured her.  “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

Felicity sighed, taking a few more minutes to consider it before groaning and giving in.  “Fine, yes, I’ll do it. Tell Mary I’ll call her later on so we can start getting ready. I want to make sure that you two have the perfect day.”

“I’ll be happy if we all make it through without any problems.  I just want to be able to call her my wife,” he admitted. Her heart swelled at her friend’s happiness, but that joy soon faded when John spoke again.  “You do know that doing this will mean working in close proximity with Sherlock, right?”

“I can handle Sherlock for a couple of days,” she assured him, rolling her eyes at the thought.

“Are you sure about that?” he questioned.  “You’re still going through rehab, and I’d hate for your health to get worse.  We both know Sherlock has that effect on people.”

“I’ll be fine.  I can handle him.  Besides, I’ll have Oliver.  I do still get a plus one even if I’m the maid of honor, right?” she asked, looking up when her fiancé began walking down the stairs.

“Yes, you still get a plus one,” he assured.  “Does Oliver know what you’re getting him into by bringing him?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll prepare him.  Just… Do me a favor and ask Sherlock to behave himself on the day of the wedding.  The last thing I need is him saying something to piss Oliver off,” she muttered, waving a hand when Oliver gave her an inquisitive look.

“I will ask, but you know that Sherlock rarely does something he doesn’t want to do, and that includes behaving,” John reminded her.

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed.  They made their goodbyes, and Felicity placed her phone on her desk before turning her chair so she was facing Oliver.  “So guess who Mary asked to be her maid of honor.”

“Really?  But she hasn’t even met you yet,” Oliver pointed out as he placed his jacket over the back of her chair.

“True, but we’ve talked on the phone loads of times.  She kind of reminds me of Sara,” she admitted. She wasn’t sure why exactly, but there was something about her that made her think of her badass best friend.  “And I think the bigger issue is she doesn’t have a lot of friends or family. Either way, I’m touched she asked.”

“Well if she likes you just from a few phone calls, then she has good taste,” he declared, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.  “Does John have a brother?”

“Huh?  No, he has a sister though,” she replied.  “Why?”

“Just wondering who his best man is going to be,” he explained, stepping away and going over to sharpen some of his arrows.  When Felicity didn’t reply, he looked back at her, took note of her awkward expression, and sighed. “He asked Sherlock, didn’t he?”

“They’re best friends, Oliver.  You can’t be that surprised,” she muttered, turning away from him to start working on her initial scans of the city.

“I knew we were going to have to see him when we went to the wedding, but now you’ll be working  _ with _ him as maid of honor and best man.  Do you really think that’s a good idea?” he asked, clearly annoyed by the idea.  “You finally seem to have let go of the silly crush you had on him and now you’re going to be forced to spend all this time with him.  I don’t like it.”

“First of all, I never had a silly crush on him.  I admired his mind. Second, we will not be forced to do anything.  I’ll be helping Mary and he’ll be helping John. We won’t even really need to talk to each other.”  At least, she hoped they wouldn’t. “And third, you don’t have to like it, but you do have to accept it.  I want to be there for Mary and John. I can put up with Sherlock Holmes for a few days if it means making their day special.”

“What if I say ‘no’?”

“Ex _ cuse _ me?” she replied, her brows shooting up as she rolled her chair closer to him.

“What if I say I don’t want you to go?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest as she looked over at her.  “I know I fucked up by not going to the hospital, but we’re back on track again. I remember how you were when you came back from London, Felicity.  You weren’t the same person you were before you left, and I haven’t seen the you that you were before that trip since.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.  Newsflash: you didn’t notice the me I was before London, so if I had been the same person before I’d left, we wouldn’t be engaged right now,” she pointed out.  “And you’re right, we are on track again, but we won’t be if you seriously think asking me to stay away from my  _ best friend’s wedding _ is an appropriate or acceptable thing to do.”

“So what I want doesn’t matter?” he countered.

“Of course it matters, but you shouldn’t want me to miss out on the greatest day of my friend’s life, especially not after I already agreed to be his bride’s maid of honor,” she stated.  “And I shouldn’t have to explain that. I would never ask you to do something like this.”

“Well I am,” Oliver declared, clenching his jaw and standing up a bit straighter.  “I don’t want you to go to the wedding.”

“ _ Tough _ , I’m going,” she snapped, starting to roll towards the exit.

“I’m doing this for  _ us _ , Felicity, can’t you see that?” he asked, following after her and stopping in front of her so she couldn’t leave.

“No, you’re doing this for  _ you _ !” she shot back.  “What are you afraid of?  I already agreed to marry you!”  As a reminder, she lifted her left hand to show the ring on her finger.

“How do I know you’ll still want to after you see him?” he questioned.  “Digg told me how heartbroken you were after you thought I had died, but you bounced back once I came back.  When you thought Sherlock died, it destroyed you, and don’t pretend like it didn’t. I don’t know what happened between you two, but there’s more there that you’re not telling me.”

“Nothing happened between us, damnit!” she shouted.  “I met him for a day.  _ One _ !  Then he fell off the grid before faking his suicide.  And yes, it destroyed me, but not because I had feelings for him.”

“Then why?”

“Because I failed!” she exclaimed, her breathing more labored than before as she felt her emotions starting to get the best of her.  “I went to London to save him, and I failed.  _ That’s _ what destroyed me.  Knowing I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t smart enough broke me.  And then you pulled your ‘I can’t be the Arrow and Oliver Queen’ bullshit and I spiraled.  So if you’re going to start pointing fingers for why I acted the way I did after he died, start by looking in the mirror.”  She went to roll herself around him to get to the exit, but he blocked her path again, this time taking a knee to make eye contact with her.

“I’m not going to go all the way to England just to watch you get wrapped up in another man,” he told her, trying to keep his voice gentle, but she could hear the bite to his words.  “And if you love me, you will stay here with me.”

Felicity shook her head, in complete disbelief that he was doing this.  “If my choices are staying here to satisfy your ego or going to John and Mary’s wedding alone, then it looks like I won’t need that plus one after all,” she stated, managing to push past him and to the elevator, her eyes meeting his as the doors closed.  She only caught a glimpse of him, but she was sure she had never seen him look so betrayed.

* * *

 

While several of her friends offered for her to stay with them, Felicity decided to use her CEO resources to stay in a nice hotel.  She also insisted on having a car take her, although she did miss seeing John grumpily holding a sign with her name on it like he had so long ago.  Over the past few months, she and Mary had spoken on the phone or over text message regularly. While she couldn’t be there in person, she helped Mary pick out her dress over Skype.  Time seemed to pass so quickly, and while she and Oliver and moved past their fight, he was still adamant on not going to the wedding. It was disappointing, especially since she wanted him to meet her friends from London, but once he made his mind about something, it was practically impossible to change it.

The night before the wedding, in lieu of a traditional bachelorette party, she decided to treat Mary to a luxurious day in the hotel spa.  Afterwards, they got dinner and drinks at a fancy new restaurant nearby, then ended the night with an exceeding amount of wine and a few romcoms.  They were both a little hungover the next morning, but after some mimosas, they were ready for the big day. Felicity did her best to help Mary with her gown, but being in her chair restricted her quite a bit.  It made getting dressed just as difficult, but by the time the limo showed up to take them to the church, they were both stunningly ready. Luckily for her, because the bride and groom couldn’t see each other before the wedding, Felicity managed to avoid Sherlock until after the ceremony.

Her eyes blinked a few times to clear the spots from her eyes after all of the flashes from the photographer, her hands straightening out her dress for what felt like the millionth time before glancing over at him.  Finding him staring down at her had her eyes darting away, her cheeks turning a soft pink as she began rolling away.

“Felicity, wait,” he called after her, striding up to match pace with her as she kept going.  “We should talk.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” she insisted, trying to move faster, but with his long legs, he was able to keep up with her easily enough, so she decided to stop to save herself the energy.  “We have nothing to talk about Sherlock.”

“I would disagree,” he replied.

“Of course you would.  It’s in your nature,” she retorted, shaking her head.  “Today is not about you, and it’s certainly not about me.  I’m here for John and Mary. That’s it. By the time they leave on their honeymoon tomorrow, I’ll already be on a flight back to Star City.”

“There are no flights back to Star City tomorrow,” he argued.

“I have a private plane.  Perks of being CEO of Palmer Technologies,” she stated, folding her hands in her lap.  “For someone who claims to be able to pick up on everything, I’m surprised you didn’t figure that one out.”

“Yes, well, you have always been a bit of a mystery to me,” he admitted, his expression neutral but his voice sounding almost vulnerable.

“What are you talking about?  When we talked on the phone that first time, you knew why I was trying to reach you and that I was at the airport on my way to see you.  You had me pegged from the beginning,” she reminded, her brows cinching together.

“Yes, but then I met you,” he muttered.  “You were not what I had been expecting, and you continued to surprise me throughout our day together.”

“In what ways did I surprise you?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up at him.

“Well, first of all, your appearance.  Only so much can be gathered over the phone, and while I gathered you were young, I did not expect someone so… bright.  Full of light, even,” he explained. “Then, when you were texting your friend, you saw going to a scene of a kidnapping as an adventure.  Most people would consider it a tragedy, but being involved in the kind of work I deal with every day was exciting to you. Next, you believed that I, for whatever reason, was ‘out of your league’, as you had so eloquently put it.  I never really understood that concept, but either you did not see your own worth or you felt I was somehow better than you which I would normally agree with, but you are not like the rest of the ordinary people I meet. However, what really took me by surprise was how you jumped to Molly’s defense.  I had been aware for some time her feelings for me, and I will admit I mistreated her because of this. Most people, besides John, do not have the courage or conviction to reprimand me when I misbehave, but you did. It seemed that every moment we spent together, you challenged and impressed me, which are two things I am not accustomed to experiencing.  You took me by surprise, Felicity Smoak, and in the two years since that day, my mind has not strayed far from your memory.”

Felicity had been so stunned by his speech, her eyes wide and her stomach simultaneously twisting and fluttering.  It was this last sentence that had her shaking her head. “Don’t. You don’t get to do this. Not now, and certainly not here,” she insisted, starting to roll away again, but he got in her way.  “Please, Sherlock. Let this go for now, and… And I promise I’ll come find you later, okay? I won’t leave until after we’ve talked.”

Sherlock paused, seemingly conflicted over the offer, but eventually bowed his head in acceptance.  “Very well. We will speak later then,” he agreed, moving out of her way. She rolled away, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.  She had prepared herself for a lot in terms of this wedding, but she could have never anticipated what had just happened, and it shook her to her very core.

* * *

 

Sherlock’s speech had been going so well, and even Felicity had to admit that it was funny, heartwarming, and just the right amount of insulting that people knew he was the one that wrote it.  Of course, when he realized someone was going to be murdered, things took an odd turn. She watched as he began to unravel, her eyes meeting John’s when their friend said an out-of-place phrase that she could only assume was a code, as John jumped into action.  As John, Sherlock, and Mary left after Major Sholto, Felicity did her best to wrangle the rest of the guests. She had a demanding enough voice, but being in a wheelchair made it a little more difficult. Eventually, she was able to get everyone back into their seats, and she suggested another round of champagne to keep them all calm.

An hour or so later, once the bride, groom, and best man returned and the dancing began, Felicity found herself in a side room, looking down at her phone.  She contemplated calling Oliver and apologizing for coming without him, but then she reminded herself that it had been his choice not to come. Twisting her ring on her finger, a soft sigh escaping her as she watched the light reflect and refract in the gem.  For so long, all she had wanted was to be with Oliver, but then things had changed.  _ She _ had changed, and she feared that she wasn’t the same woman that had been so painfully enamored with him.

“Your speech was better.”  She looked up and found Sherlock hovering in the doorway before taking a few steps into the room.  “Of course, I had the dramatics of a case to solve to make mine more memorable, but your anecdotes about John threatening to be your bodyguard and video chatting Mary while she tried on dresses were both humorous and sentimental, which I have read are two very important qualities to a speech such as this,” he continued, his hands locked behind his back.  “May I ask you a question?”

“Since you just complimented me, I guess I can give you one question,” she joked, smiling softly up at him.

“Why are you still in that chair?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“You don’t need it,” he stated, being the know-it-all he always was.  “You only think you need it.”

“I am paralyzed, you ass,” she shot back, glaring up at him.

“Yes, I read the article after your engagement.  Congratulations by the way. Your fiancé may be a murderer and a liar, but I suppose he’s handsome enough, by society’s standards at least.”  He paused when Felicity scoffed indignantly, her mouth opening to argue, but he cut her off. “Oh please, I knew the first day the vigilante surfaced that it was him.  He may have changed his mantle over the years, but I am not as naive as the rest of the public. If it wasn’t already completely obvious, your conversation in the lab with Molly that day confirmed my suspicions,” he explained, his eyes locked on hers, almost challenging her to contradict him.  “You can do better, you know.”

“I love Oliver,” she insisted.

“Do you?” he questioned, taking another step towards her.  “I will admit, I don’t entirely understand love, but spending time with John and Mary has given me at least an inkling into what it means.  From what I have gathered, loving someone means becoming a better version of yourself, not because they deserve it, but because they inspire you to be your best self.  I may have only met you that one day, but the you I met was fiery and so sure of herself. I don’t see her before me today.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Sherlock, and I don’t have to explain myself or my relationship to you,” Felicity replied, glancing back down at her ring.  “As for my ability to walk, I really am paralyzed. I may have a chip in my back, courtesy of my friend, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“It is working,” he corrected.  “You just don’t believe enough in yourself to try.”

“How on earth would you know it’s working?  Last I checked, biotechnology is not one of your specialties,” she countered, pinching her lips together in annoyance.

“Because I saw your leg move.  During my speech,” he told her.  “When I mentioned plain bridesmaids, your leg twitched in correlation with your annoyance with me.”

“It… It didn’t twitch,” she insisted, shaking her head.

“Have I ever been wrong in an observation?” he replied, quirking a brow.  She bowed her head in surrender, knowing he was right. “So again, I must ask, why are you still in that chair?”

She looked up at him dubiously, gaping for a few moments before glancing back down at her legs.  She took a deep breath, then focused all of her energy into sliding her foot from the rest onto the floor.  A sharp inhale escaped her when it moved, her focus shifting to her other foot until it did the same. Without even realizing, she took his hands when he extended them, then lifted herself up and onto her feet.  “The chip… It’s working.”

“So it seems,” he muttered softly, a hint of a smile on his face as she looked up at him.  Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes locked on hers, her mouth closing as she swallowed dryly.  “May I have this dance?” A breathy laugh escaped her as she nodded, one hand remaining in his as the other moved to his shoulder before he began moving her slowly and gently across the floor.  “You are better than I expected.”

“I grew up in Las Vegas to a single mom who loved Dancing with the Stars.  I took classes at the local Y up until high school, when I refused to go,” she admitted, shaking her head as she remembered how upset her mother had been when she decided to stop her classes.  “You’re better than I expected too.”

“I’m going to let you in on something, Felicity,” he decided, that hint of a smile returning.

“And what’s that?”

“I love dancing,” he whispered.  “I’ve always loved it.”

“Oh really?” she laughed softly, surprised by his answer.

He hummed his confirmation, then twirled her expertly before pulling her close and dipping her, all with the grace of someone who clearly knew what they were doing.  “It rarely comes up in crime work, but, you know, I live in hope of the right case.”

She let out another laugh, her head shaking slightly as he lifted her upright again, their bodies closer together from the way he had held her.  “Consider me impressed,” she stated, a soft smile settling on her lips. She could feel the tension building as they both remained silent, her stomach fluttering once more at the way he was looking at her.

“Felicity, I-” he began, but was interrupted by John entering the room.

“Well isn’t this a pretty picture.  You know, I was hoping he was wrong when he told me you could walk, but I will say I am relieved to see Curtis’s technology is holding up,” John said as he walked over to them, then began teasing Sherlock about the murderer.  Lestrade soon joined them, the photographer right behind him, and the moment was lost. If she was being honest, she couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed.

* * *

 

Standing in the crowd with the rest of the guests as Sherlock played his composition for John and Mary’s first dance, Felicity was struggling to sort through her emotions.  She was obviously thrilled for the newlyweds, who were embarking on the greatest adventure of them all. But then she was conflicted. Conflicted over her own marriage to Oliver, which was supposed to be happening at some point in the near future.  Conflicted over the tension she kept feeling every time she and Sherlock were alone. Conflicted over the idea of leaving England without really knowing why things were so different with him than any other man she’d ever met. She was angry at him for letting her believe he was dead for two years and then returning only to tell her that she had apparently been on his mind while he was away.  She was heartbroken thinking that, if Moriarty hadn’t forced him to fake his own death, there could have been something for them. Something great. Something life-alteringly wonderful.

She glanced up at the man in question, only to find him already looking at her as he played.  A shaky exhale escaped her as he finished the piece, then grabbed the boutonniere on his music stand and tossed it to her.  Her eyes shifted from the flower in her hand to him as he started giving his little speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, just one last thing before the evening begins properly.  Apologies for earlier, a crisis arose and was dealt with,” he began. “More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows.  I have never made a vow in my life and after tonight, I most likely never will again.” His eyes darted to Felicity for a moment before refocusing on John and Mary.  “So, here in front of you all, my first and probably last vow. Mary and John… Whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on, I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you.”  Felicity’s eyes widened at the implication, then shot to the couple to gauge their reaction. “Uh, I’m sorry, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact, I just miscounted. Anyways, it’s time for dancing.  Play the music again, please. Thank you.”

He encouraged the guests to start dancing as he made his way to the newlyweds, Felicity listening from the outskirts as he apologized to them and explained why he believed Mary to be with child.  She couldn’t help but laugh softly as they all started panicking a bit, a smile soon following at Sherlock’s comments about how they had done a good job parenting him. “Dance!” he said suddenly, causing John to look up at him with a confused hum.  “Both of you now, go dance. We can’t just stand here, people will wonder what we’re talking about.”

“Right,” John nodded, looking around.

“What about you?” Mary asked, reaching out to smooth a hand over his jacket lapel.

“Well, we can’t all three dance, there are limits,” John reminded.

“Yes there are,” Sherlock agreed, then looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Felicity.  “Don’t worry. I have someone else I need to speak to anyways,” he told his friends, giving them one last smile before walking past them as they began dancing.

“Took him long enough,” Mary muttered, shaking her head as she watched him approach Felicity.

“Long enough to what?” John asked, following her line of sight as Sherlock offered his arm to the blonde.  Felicity hesitated, then slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to walk her off the dance floor and outside.  “Are they..?”

“I know you’re not Sherlock, but surely you must have seen that coming,” Mary teased, cupping his cheek before giving him a sweet kiss.

Outside of the hall, it was much colder, but they had grabbed their jackets on their way out.  It still felt so strange to be walking again, but after everything, she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.  She wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped further into the cold, her head tilting back to look up at the stars below.  “So Mary’s pregnant, huh?”

“Yes, but that is not why I asked you to come out here with me,” he replied, drawing her attention back to him.  “I wanted to finish what I had started saying back in the side room.”

“Sherlock, you don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to,” he insisted, stepping closer to her and taking one of her hands in his.  “Felicity, I am not a man of emotion, but somehow you elicit them from me just by existing,” he began.  “Your exuberance for life is contagious, and all it took was one day for me to know that you are someone I very much want to keep in my life.  I know that I hurt you, as well as many others, when I faked my death, and one day I would like to explain why that was necessary. Now, however, I simply want to say that I am sorry.  I am sorry for pulling you into my life only to sever that connection soon after. That was unfair to you, and knowing that my actions had such a negative effect on you was difficult for me to acknowledge and accept.”  When he looked up and found her with a confused expression, he sighed and explained, “John may have let it slip that you became a bit reckless after I was gone.”

“He wasn’t supposed to mention me to you, even if you asked,” she muttered.

This time it was her turn to look down, but he quickly and gently lifted her chin to make her look at him.  “I know that you are engaged to someone else, and that I may be assuming a bit more than I should, but is there any possibility that your heart is not completely closed off from me?”

Felicity inhaled slowly, then exhaled abruptly as she tried to formulate an answer.  Her mind was reeling from being so close to him and knowing that he cared for her more than she expected, but even through the haze, there was a clear, singular word echoing inside of her: yes.  Of course there was a possibility that she could reciprocate his feelings, but she couldn’t just say that. “It’s not that simple, and you know it,” she said, her voice soft as she shook her head.  “Oliver didn’t want me to come to the wedding, you know. He was worried that I wouldn’t want to marry him after I saw you again.”

“I don’t blame him.  I’m obviously far superior to him in all ways except perhaps physical,” he replied, wincing when Felicity smacked his arm.  “Sorry, not the point. Proceed.”

“My point is that I made a promise to him.  The day he proposed, I agreed to marry him, and I…”

“You can change your mind,” he pointed out, reaching up with his other hand to brush a stray hair behind her ear.  “I told you I did not know what love was, that it was beyond the reason I hold dear, and that is true,” he admitted.  “But  _ you _ are beyond reason.  You make me want to be a better man, Felicity.  I feel a pull towards you that is greater than anything I have felt before and I fear that if I let you go, I will never feel this way again.  I am not asking for now. All I ask is for someday. Someday, when the appeal of being the wife of Oliver Queen loses its shine and you’re ready to let me into your heart completely.  If you give me someday, I will wait as long as I must for that day to come. All you have to do is say yes.”

Tears were welling in her eyes as he finished, her face leaning into his touch as he cupped her cheek.  It was all so crazy. She had watched his career, admiring him from afar, for so long. They had met for  _ one _ day, and it was enough to turn both of their worlds upside down.  For him, he realized a part of himself that he had hidden from most of his life.  For her, she had been left with a ‘what if’ that she was now given the opportunity to answer.  She did love Oliver, but was it enough to love someone when they weren’t the right person? When they had begun their journey that day in her office, she had always thought that if things didn’t work out, it would be because she wasn’t right for him.  Now that they had been together, she was starting to realize that maybe it was the opposite. Sherlock had been right about his concept of love. When you loved someone, they inspired you to be better, but she and Oliver hadn’t been inspiring each other.  They weren’t becoming better. If anything, they were becoming worse versions of themselves together. He was growing jealous and kept trying to put his wishes and desires before her own. She was hiding her own light to make him feel better. Their relationship was severely flawed, and while most working relationships had their problems, there were just some things that she couldn’t ignore.  Not anymore. She knew her answer, and this time, she didn’t try to talk herself out of it: “Yes.”

* * *

 

The day Oliver is appointed mayor, Felicity submitted her visa application.  The day her visa came in, she booked a flight. She didn’t tell anyone what she was planning, especially since most of the team had already disbanded and went off to live their own lives.  Over the weeks leading up to her flight, she signed a rental agreement on a flat in London, packed all of her belongings, and shipped them out right before she was going to leave. The day of her flight, she made her way to Oliver’s office, her stomach swirling with uncertainty as she walked through the door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked as he stood from his desk, a brow lifting when she closed the door to his office.  “Felicity, is everything okay?”

“I’m leaving,” she told him, meeting his eyes and watching the words hit him.  She saw confusion, then heartbreak, and finally realization flash across his face.

“You’re going to be with  _ him _ , aren’t you?” he questioned, lowering himself back down into his chair.  “After you promised me you weren’t ending things between us because of him, you’re leaving for him.”

“I’m leaving for me,” she corrected, shaking her head.  “And I meant what I said when I ended things. It wasn’t because of Sherlock.  We’re not right for each other, Oliver, and I think you know that,” she pointed out, sighing when he looked down.  She walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she continued, “There will always be a part of me that loves you.  You were the first man that ever proposed to me. You were the first man I ever saw a future with… But I fell out of love with you a long time ago.  With the team going their separate ways, I think it’s time I go see what my life could be away from all of this.”

Oliver nodded, reaching up to take her hand and kissing her knuckles.  “I hope that you find what you’re looking for, Felicity. After everything we’ve been through together, all I want is for you to be happy.  I wish that could have been with me, but you’re right. If we had stayed together, our relationship would have taken a lot out of both of us.  You deserve better than that. I’m not sure it’ll be with  _ him _ , but you deserve the chance to try.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure it’ll be with him either, but I don’t want to live with anymore ‘what ifs’.  I’ve had enough of those in my life,” she shrugged. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then gave his hand one more squeeze before letting it go and making her way to the door.  “Oh, by the way, I set Curtis up in the Arrow Cave. He’ll be able to help you when you’re in the field, but I hope you’ll consider what I said.”

“First of all, stop calling it that.  Second, I don’t  _ want _ a new team, but I promise to think about it some more,” he gave in.  “And third, no one will be able to compare to you, Felicity. You were the heart of our team, and we might be able to get by, but it won’t be the same without you.”

Felicity teared up at that, a shaky exhale escaping her as she smiled softly.  “Goodbye, Oliver.”

“Goodbye, Felicity.”

A sense of déjà vu filled Felicity as she pulled her bag off of the belt and began dragging it through Heathrow.  John Watson was not waiting for her this time, as he had no idea she had packed up and moved to London, so she had to call her own cab.  “221B Baker Street, please,” she told the driver, settling into the seat and watching the now more familiar scenery pass by. She couldn’t believe she was doing this.  She had moved to a completely different country, and while she should be nervous about it, she wasn’t. She felt calm, and at peace, like this was where she should have been the entire time.  As she got closer and closer to Baker Street, she was filled with a different kind of nervousness and excitement that had her biting at her bottom lip.

Stepping out of the cab, she took her bags and stared up at the apartment.  She took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. When Mrs. Hudson answered, she put her finger to her lips, left her bags by the door, and began climbing the stairs.  The sound of a violin being played echoed down the hall as she made her way towards the door. Pausing once more, she waited for some sort of hesitation and self-doubt to kick in, but it never came.  With a small smile, she opened the door, waiting until he finished the song before speaking up. “I guess you haven’t heard the news.” He nearly dropped his violin, turning to face her with an actual shocked look on his face.  “It’s someday.”

A smile broke out on his face as he placed the violin down and strode across the apartment to her.  He lifted her into his arms, spinning her as she laughed before settling her on her own two feet again.  His forehead leaned against hers as she closed her eyes, breathing him and the moment in. “Are you sure about this?”

She opened her eyes and pulled away a little, surprised to see the question in his cloudy blue eyes.  “Do you really have to ask?” she replied, her smile matching his as they recalled him posing the same question over the phone that first day they spoke.  She cupped his cheek, her smile softening as he leaned into the touch before she lifted herself on her toes to kiss him. It was deep and passionate, the kind of kiss that left your heart racing, your stomach flipping, and your skin a few degrees warmer.  It was a kiss full of promise and the beginning of something truly magnificent. Sherlock may not have known much about love, but that kiss alone told him that there was no one he would rather learn from than Felicity Smoak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up so much longer than I expected, but I had so much fun writing it. There's a good chance I'll come back to this couple at some point in the future, so keep an eye out. Thanks so much for reading. As always, any feedback is welcomed and encouraged! :)

**Author's Note:**

> You didn't think that was the end, did you? ;) Thanks for reading, and keep an eye out for part two!


End file.
